


how to pass time on the journey to fjerda: a guide by wylan van eck and jesper fahey

by fricklefracklefloof



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drawing, Drawing each other, Dyslexia, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Sort Of, i kind of sort of break the rules, kind of angst, lots of wylan backstory, they are kind of mean to each other, this takes place in soc but it has spoilers for ck!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fricklefracklefloof/pseuds/fricklefracklefloof
Summary: Wylan starts drawing the crew to pass time. Unfortunately, Jesper notices and decides to have fun with this.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Comments: 8
Kudos: 199





	how to pass time on the journey to fjerda: a guide by wylan van eck and jesper fahey

**Author's Note:**

> writing these two is self care  
> trying to get back into writing, this has been a work in progress for about a month or two when i got the time to work on sdkfjdsk i'm working on actually finishing stuff. i'm really insecure about my writing. i hope you like this!

It was one of those particularly boring days where nobody seemed to be doing much of anything.

The past week or so spent on the voyage to Ice Court had been excruciatingly dull. One might say that the journey was most important when achieving a goal, but in a case like this, Wylan was sure they were absolutely incorrect.

Most people writing cheesy metaphors were probably not on their way to pull off an impossible heist that most likely would end in death, but Wylan was never a fan of metaphors anyway. Or literature in general.

He much more preferred creating some sort of art to pass the time, and though Wylan would have loved to pull out his flute and work on a couple of the songs he hadn’t touched in weeks, he knew he’d be the victim of constant ridicule by these rough criminals who had no need to learn to play an instrument, mainly Jesper. 

They were quite interesting subjects to draw, though. Wylan hadn’t been allowed to leave the mansion much, certainly not to draw, but he’d always dreamed of going to different parts of Ketterdam, sitting down, and just sketching what he saw. His sketchbooks were only filled with one world, the only one he really knew, filled with the rich pictures in his mind from what he saw. His father used to take him on plenty of trips, including the Ice Court, though sometimes he wasn’t always able to bring his drawing materials. When that happened, he’d take in everything and draw it from memory later. Some were foggier than others—the Ice Court trip was harder to remember, but Matthias’s pointers easily brought the pictures in his mind back to him.

Here, though, on the ship, Wylan could peoplewatch. He had pictures of them all, vivid and bright in his head from seeing them every day. Here was cold, calculated Kaz, with stiff, almost inhuman movements that Wylan could not understand; elusive Inej, who hadn’t been out much lately due to her injury, her secret smiles revealed only to Nina and sometimes Jesper; huge, terrifying Matthias, though surprisingly, Wylan observed, a melting iceberg when he looked at Nina, his cold front dissipating almost immediately; Nina with her round shapes and curves and a bounce in her step, her demeanor confident and flirtatious, and there was Jesper, tall and reedy, always moving, fidgeting, laughing, his grey eyes sparkling and the small smattering of freckles dusted across his cheeks dancing. 

Wylan liked to look at what the world presented to him. He liked looking at people and creating pictures of them in his head. He liked to learn more about them, to make more and more pictures until he had a whole collage.

However, it was one thing to have a mental picture of someone, and another to actually draw that picture. 

Jesper especially was near impossible to draw. He was never in one place for very long, making it difficult for Wylan to decide on what pose to draw him in. Jesper made it feel difficult to draw one in motion. Wylan had so, so many pictures of him in his mind, crowding together in a jumble that was hard to sort out. There was just so much of _Jesper_ that he couldn’t fit into one drawing.

Today Jesper had desperately tried to convince anyone to play cards with him, absolutely collapsing under the boredom of this ship’s lack of activity, and to his usual lack of luck no one felt up to play with him. He settled for a game of solitaire, and Wylan observed what seemed to be Jesper’s version of concentration—staring at the cards until his gaze wandered, fingers drumming on the table, upsetting the arrangement of cards, inching them back into their correct formations, one of his legs bouncing. Jesper seemed to never be able to sit still, and it must have been particularly excruciating for him to sit there and try to play cards but with no one to bet with.

Jesper’s attention span obviously didn’t last longer than about thirty seconds for a game of solitaire, because his eyes would stay trained on the cards, trying to focus on a move he wanted to make, before wandering to look at something else and then back again when he remembered he was playing. He spent more time trying to focus than he did making actual moves. This was particularly frustrating for Wylan, because he could only look at Jesper when he was concentrating on something else, which only gave him a small window of time before Jesper’s eyes left the table and noticed Wylan staring.

Wylan should have given up on this a long time ago, he swore he knew that staring was bad, but watching Jesper battle with even a simple game of solitaire was so intriguing to him. His posture was slouched, bored; Wylan didn’t want to admit that he found that incredibly attractive.

They played that little game of darting eyes until Jesper finally caught Wylan looking and they made awkward eye contact. Wylan immediately looked away, reddening, but Jesper was already sauntering over.

“Can’t get enough of me, merchling?” He sat down next to where he was doing, his legs crossed in a weird position, and Wylan self-consciously covered his paper with his arm. Jesper raised his eyebrows. “Something you don’t want me to see?”

“I was _drawing._ ” Or more like looking.

“Can I see?” There was a mischievous glint in his grey eyes.

“Why do you care?”

Jesper leaned back. “No need to get so upset. I was just curious.”

“Hm.” Wylan looked down, feigning irritation. “I just wasn’t done yet.” It didn’t look good enough for anyone to see yet.

Jesper nodded. “Can you show me later?”

“Maybe.”

\---

As Wylan had predicted, Jesper was bored and wanted to play cards the next day. 

Wylan’s heart was thudding heavily, but he forced himself to watch as Jesper opened the deck of cards, still sulky that no one wanted to play with him. There was a folded slip of parchment hidden inside. Wylan felt his face grow hot as Jesper fished out the parchment and unfolded it.

Wylan knew exactly what was on the parchment. He’d finished his little sketchpage of the crew yesterday, painstakingly making sure every detail was right. He’d secretly wanted to impress Jesper, but wasn’t sure how confident he felt in his work so he decided to sleep on it before slipping the parchment into the deck of cards early that morning. Now he was sort of regretting his decision as Jesper grinned at the silly little doodles Wylan had put his heart into. The picture in his mind of it was clear as day, and even if it wasn’t for the way his brain thought in images, he would have remembered it. He’d stared at it over and over again yesterday, wondering whether it was good enough. He liked his drawing of Inej; she’d been staring into the ocean when he was studying her and she’d looked up once to smile a little at him, as if she knew exactly what he was doing. They were both quietly observant.

His sketch of Kaz was probably the worst, though; no matter how many mental pictures Wylan had of him, he found himself struggling to imitate his unique posture. The parchment had been made for Jesper after their little conversation, though, so he’d included more than one sketch for him—sitting alone playing solitaire, then laughing with Inej, then climbing the rigging when he’d gotten particularly antsy. He was driving the crew insane, but it was fun to draw.

“Your tutors taught you well. I think you captured me perfectly,” Jesper remarked. Wylan suddenly realized he was leaning on the table next to him. There was a dazzling smile on his face as he gripped the parchment in one hand. Wylan wanted to hold onto this image with everything he had. “Anything else you can do? Play a little song for me on your flute?”

“Shut up.” _Marketable skills._ Like Jesper thought his drawings were important. 

Wylan’s father had been the first to disapprove of his artistic activities, stating that it simply wasn’t a mercher thing to do. Successful servants of Ghezen did not waste their time on frivolous hobbies. They learned to make money. And read.

Wylan’s ability was only important when it was for architecture. But even then, he was supposed to be above architects. He directed them, gave them jobs. He didn’t _do_ their jobs.

Not like Wylan was on his way to be a mercher, anyways, considering who he was working with. He’d long given up on doing what his father did. But he knew even Kaz wouldn’t approve of his useless doodles that probably weren’t accurate. They didn’t contribute anything to the mission.

“Do you know sea shanties? Maybe we can all sing together.”

It did almost seem like Jesper liked them, though. But he could have been joking. Wylan never seemed to be able to tell with him.

\---

The first horror came with Inej.

Wylan was still mulling over Jesper’s comments about his sketches, replaying the scene over and over again—did he like them or not?—when Inej’s voice came out of nowhere. He jumped.

“I found this in my hood.”

She was holding a ripped piece of parchment that couldn’t have come from anywhere but the roll that Wylan owned. His heart dropped. Inej was holding it out for him to see, but Wylan couldn’t bring himself to let his eyes travel over it properly. He felt silly about the fact that he actually thought it was good.

She was smiling a little. _Oh, Ghezen, she thinks it’s so bad it’s funny._

“It’s really good. Thank you.”

“It’s-” what? Did he hear her properly? “O-oh, uh, sure.” 

With a nod, Inej walked away, leaving Wylan a stuttering mess. How did she even get that? Wylan hadn’t-

_Jesper._

A sick feeling settled in Wylan’s stomach, worse than when he’d stepped on the boat initially and felt that wave of seasickness. He wanted to scream. Of _course_ he would do something like that. Wylan did know whether he was more irritated with himself or Jesper. He should have never shown those stupid sketches to him. Wylan could just picture him laughing with the rest of the crew at his silly doodles—look at the pampered merchling, thinking his drawings are of any use to anyone! He felt foolish.

But Inej did _like it._ Her smile seemed genuine; she didn’t seem the type to make fun of Wylan in that way, though he never knew what went on in her head.

 _Probably out of pity._ That seemed to be the only logical reason.

To Wylan’s dismay, the horrors didn’t stop there. He got to see this next one play out.

Jesper was insufferable today, dancing around everyone and cracking jokes that no one laughed at except him. He’d even started irritating Matthias, which Wylan was sure would end up in certain death. 

“Hey, Matthias, could you fetch that paper for me?” Jesper had asked the Fjerdan casually, and it would have seemed genuine if Jesper wasn’t right next to it and also grinning horribly. With a sickening jolt, Wylan recognized “that paper” immediately.

Matthias didn’t buy it. “Why.”

“I’m too lazy to move two inches. Also, I think you want to pick it up.”

Irritated, but still too curious not to oblige, Matthias reluctantly complied, and grabbed the slip of ripped parchment. He stared at it for about a minute, his perpetually angry features contorted in what almost looked like confusion. Wylan couldn’t breathe. He was never going to reach the Ice Court. He’d die right here. The only thing he and Matthias had in common were that they were both new to the whole crime thing and had seen the Ice Court. Somehow, the latter still didn’t make Matthias any more kind towards him. Not that he was kind to anyone.

“What is this?” He almost looked offended. _Definitely dead._ Wylan’s awful drawing had insulted Matthias, and now he was going to kill him. “Did you draw this?” he asked Jesper.

Jesper scoffed. “I don’t have that kind of talent.” _Talent._ Wylan was sure he was mocking him.

“You.” Matthias’s gaze locked onto Wylan. There was only one artist here, and Matthias knew it. Wylan knew already how resentful the Fjerdan was of his drawing abilities; they would be getting the crew into the Ice Court. Wylan’s heart felt like a frightened rabbit. He wanted to bolt.

“Yeah,” Wylan replied. 

To Wylan’s surprise, Matthias’s eyebrows just rose curiously as he looked down at the drawing again, contradicting all of the pictures Wylan had for him. He had never seen that face contorted in anything other than a frown. “It’s not bad. But-”

“I know,” Wylan gasped. “The proportions are all off. I-” It was hard to look at him. Wylan’s mental images of Matthias were terrifying.

“No, it’s good,” Matthias replied. He looked more confused than intimidating. Wylan’s mind ran through all the different kinds of judgement Matthias could have for him right now. “I just…”

_He doesn’t understand how anything could look so bad._

“Do I always look this… scary?”

Jesper burst out laughing. 

“He’s terrified of you! Oh, Saints. You’re like a monster to him.” Now Jesper was struggling to breathe. He hurried over to look at the drawing with Matthias. Wylan couldn’t believe what he was seeing; he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more confused. “That’s actually kind of accurate. That is _hilarious._ You horrifying Fjerdan.”

Matthias blinked. He didn’t seem to understand how this was funny at all. “I guess I am.”

Wylan really should have seen the next one coming.

Not long after talking with Matthias, Wylan heard a shout from belowdecks.

“Who the _hell_ got into my toffees?”

Nina appeared to yell at the confused crew milling about, waving a familiar piece of ripped parchment in the air. Everyone else seemed confused, except Jesper, who still had that wicked grin on his face, and Wylan, who felt like he was going to throw up.

“I found _this_ in my tin. It’s really good, and I look gorgeous in it, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that _someone ate my toffees without asking._ ”

Nina was quite a terrifying Grisha, and even when she wasn’t using her Heartrender powers, Wylan still felt like he was going to die in her presence. He’d forgotten how scary she truly could be when interacting with the rest of the crew.

“I got this nice drawing from Wylan earlier,” Inej provided, holding up her twin piece of parchment.

“Me too,” Matthias replied.

Nina’s intense green eyes bored into him like daggers. “Wylan, if you think this is funny-”

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t- It was Jesper!” Wylan sputtered. 

Jesper started laughing again.

“I know for a fact that Jesper doesn’t have the attention span or the talent to sit down and draw something as nice as this,” Nina scolded. “I know it was you, Wylan. If you wanted my toffees, you could’ve just asked.”

“I didn’t put that there! He took my drawings!” Wylan protested, face hot. 

“Framing someone else for your crimes,” Inej said approvingly, and even Kaz was nodding. “That’s not a bad lie, Wylan.”

“I’m not lying! And I’m _not_ a criminal!”

Jesper controlled his rampant laughter for a moment. “It’s okay, Wylan. They _were_ pretty good,” he wheezed.

Nina was onto him in an instant. “I- Jesper!” she gasped. “Was he lying or not? I’m going to kill you.”

“I only ate one. I can’t believe you noticed.”

“I count my toffees to make sure I know whether you thieves got into them or not. Don’t steal my food, I’ll probably share it with you if you ask nicely. Or draw me,” Nina said, giving Wylan a little smile. Then, to his surprise, she actually _handed_ him one. Wylan couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Can I have one?” Jesper asked.

“You’re not talented. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a new hiding place so dirty thieves don’t get into my valuables,” Nina replied, leaving the group to head back belowdecks.

The silence on the ship afterward was excruciating. Wylan stared at the toffee in his hands, uncomfortably, as he tried not to make eye contact with everyone else. He tossed it between each hand, afraid it was going to melt, sticky against his palms. He could practically feel their eyes on him.

Finally Jesper said, “Hey, Kaz, you weren’t left out here.”

Wylan looked up to shoot daggers at him. “Jesper, don’t you _dare-_ ”

But Jesper was already slipping that awful slip of paper into Kaz’s gloved hands. Kaz took it with precision, eyes scanning its contents, his gaze unreadable. Wylan wanted to look away. This was the reaction he was most worried about. 

Before Wylan knew it, the paper was gone. Slipped away—up his sleeve, dropped in his pocket, hidden in his strange gloves. Kaz was a master of sleight of hand, Wylan had observed. Watching his hands move was mesmerizing, but difficult to capture in a drawing. And he couldn’t begin to understand how he made such methodical movements in _gloves_ —why did he even wear them? To seem more like a criminal? Wylan couldn’t imagine flaunting something like that.

Kaz was looking at him. Wylan could disintegrate from just one intimidating stare from him. Why was everyone here so _terrifying?_

“Good. Make sure you don’t forget about the Ice Court sketches, Wylan.”

Was that a compliment? Wylan almost couldn’t tell, but Kaz didn’t seem upset, which was good. He didn’t want to breathe that sigh of relief just yet. Kaz was terrifying and unpredictable.

As soon as it had started, it was over. Kaz left him thinking, limping belowdecks—probably to scheme. Already moving onto the next thing, and so was everyone else, it seemed. Wylan desperately hoped they’d forget this all ever happened, though he knew he wouldn’t. Why did Kaz even keep that thing? Wylan had worked hard on that drawing, but he hoped Kaz would throw it away.

“So are you going to eat that or what?”

Wylan looked up, then down at his hands where Jesper’s eyes were directed. He’d forgotten Nina had given him the toffee.

Wylan quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening. “ _Yes._ And why did you have to do that?” he hissed.  
Jesper feigned innocence so perfectly, Wylan wanted to punch him. “Do what?”

“You know what you did. That was meant for just you, not the whole crew!”

Jesper shrugged. “They liked it. I think it was meant for them, if you drew them.”

“You violated my privacy!”

“You were the one staring at us all day, merchling.”

Because he had to make them _look right._ Jesper didn’t draw, he didn’t know what it felt like. 

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Wylan shoved the toffee in his mouth, making sure Jesper saw it, and stormed dramatically belowdecks where he could process. He probably looked like an idiot, but he already did anyways, and his mind was still whirling to think straight.

\---

So Jesper definitely messed up.

He didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. If he drew like that, he’d want to show the entire world! But apparently Wylan was only really confident of sketches that were considered “marketable”. The Ice Court drawings were cool, sure, but they weren’t very interesting. Not as interesting as drawings of himself.

He didn’t think artists were so _weird_ about their work.

Jesper really hadn’t meant to hurt Wylan. The teasing was all good fun; surely he realized that?

 _Yet another thing to add on to the pile of guilt._ He would avoid it all forever if he had to.

Still.

It was one thing to make Wylan irritated, and another to see his fresh merchling face actually upset. It made Jesper antsy. Why did it have to be such a big deal? What the hell?

Plus the crew really didn’t need so much tension this early. Nina and Matthias were already close to eating each other alive. This could fall apart before they even reached the Ice Court.

_Saints._

\---

Wylan couldn’t sleep. He’d been blessed with a lantern tonight as he worked on… something. Pointless doodles. He wanted to feel more satisfied with his work after what happened today. And he definitely wasn’t showing anyone ever again. His mind was crowded with the images of their faces, repeating over and over again in his head incessantly as he tried vainly to distract himself. He wished he couldn’t see them. They made him want to jump off the ship and hide underneath the waves forever.

He must have been zoning out, because he hadn’t even realized when Jesper was behind him until he heard an awful noise of a chair scraping against wood as he sat down next to him. Wylan quickly covered his parchment to look up at him sitting on the chair backwards.

“What do you want.” 

Wylan still didn’t know whether to be upset with Jesper’s antics today. He’d cooled down from earlier, and yes, he knew he was acting horribly dramatic about the whole thing, but it had _terrified_ him. Maybe Jesper had liked his drawings, and maybe that did make Wylan feel more than happy inside, but the thought of the crew seeing his doodles still made him want to lose his lunch.

“I, uh… couldn’t sleep.” So insomnia plagued the both of them, apparently. For the first time, Jesper looked a little uncomfortable. He was fidgeting more than ever, rocking back and forth on the chair slightly in a way that Wylan was sure would make him fall forward. Was he sorry? Wylan couldn’t tell. 

“What are you drawing?”

“None of your business.”

Jesper nodded, hands up in what looked like mock submission. “Okay then.” His eyes were still on Wylan as he continued rocking. Wylan tried to continue drawing with one arm shielding his paper.

“Do you ever draw yourself?”

“What?” Wylan looked up, feigning annoyance, as if he couldn’t believe Jesper was still there. He really would have loved for him to stay, right where he was, now that he seemed sorry, but his heart was hammering. 

“Don’t artists do, like, uh… self portraits? Do you do those? Draw yourself?”

Wylan thought that was a stupid question. “No.” Why would he do that?

“Why not?”

“Because it… I don’t know, it feels self-centered?”

“It’s not self-centered to like drawing yourself. If I could draw, I’d spend every minute capturing this gorgeous face,” Jesper said, batting his eyes, and Wylan stifled a snort. Whatever anxiety Wylan thought Jesper had possessed was gone. Insufferable as usual.

“I don’t know.” To be honest, Wylan didn’t really like looking at himself. It gave him more opportunity to really scrutinize his insecurities—that pimple there, the way his eyes looked too blue and innocent and wide, the redness in his face, the freckles in every spot imaginable. The pictures were loud and cringeworthy and highlighted everything awful. Wylan was always torn between being horribly accurate and actually making it look good.

Jesper tapped the parchment, making Wylan snatch it away, the paper sliding across the table. “Can you draw yourself?”

“Is that a request?”

“Yes.”

“Can I refuse it?”

Jesper seemed to think for a moment. He was leaned over on his chair in a really weird position, his arms hanging loosely around the back of the chair and his horribly long legs spread out uncomfortably- “I guess, but-”

Wylan huffed. “Too bad. I am.”

Jesper scooted forward. “I changed my mind. You can’t refuse it.”

“Why do you _care_ so much?” Wylan was infuriated with him today. It must be because they were so close to Fjerda, Jesper was getting antsy. And annoying _everyone around him to death._

Jesper leaned back, obviously realizing what he did. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Wylan wanted to shove him off the chair. He huffed, turning his gaze away from stupid Jesper and back to his stupid drawing.

The room was silent, save for the scratching of Wylan’s quill on the parchment and the tapping of Jesper’s feet on the floor.

“I, uh. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Hm.” Wylan kept his eyes focused on the paper, stifling a smile. 

“I just- your sketches are good. I thought the others would like to see them. Your _marketable merchling skills._ ” Jesper almost sounded genuine for a second until his tone turned joking. Wylan stole a glance at him. He had a horrible grin on his face, but this time it seemed a little strained. That was an image he didn’t have in his stores.

Wylan reddened, keeping his eyes back on the paper. “I can try.”

Jesper sounded surprised. “The self portrait?”

“If it’ll make you leave me alone.”

“Sure.”

Wylan was surprised by his agreement, but he nodded, suddenly realized just exactly what he’d agreed to. He turned and-

-stared at the paper. He did not even know where to start. Wylan’s face was burning, feeling the pressure of Jesper’s eyes boring into him.

Jesper tapped the paper. “Well?”

Wylan drew a circle. That was a start. That was something, right? He could do this. _One thing at a time._ It felt silly to apply that to something like this.

He sketched out the guidelines, trying to figure out what exactly he was going to do. What direction would it be facing? _Slightly to the right._ (He was better than that than completely head on or to the side.) How much would he be drawing? _Only head and shoulders._ (He would die if he had to draw his whole body).

Wylan tried vainly to believe he was not drawing himself, but just another boy, but it was difficult when this boy had the same face staring back at him. Picturing it in his mind made him want to cringe.

Jesper kept squinting at the paper and then squinting at Wylan’s face as if he was deliberately trying to annoy him. “You have more freckles than that.”

“Shut up.” Wylan hated all of his freckles.

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s a cute thing.”

His cheeks flushed again, but Wylan added more.

They continued like this for what felt like hours, Wylan sketching and Jesper adding pointers that Wylan didn’t even know he noticed. By the time they were pretty much finished, his eyelids were drooping.

“It looks good.”

“It looks ugly.”

“I helped you with it. It looks fantastic. Just like the merchling I know.”

Wylan wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t have the energy to complain much more. 

\---

Wylan didn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, but when he awoke, he found himself leaning over a table with a blanket placed over his shoulders. A lantern was barely providing enough light for him to see what was next to him.

His self portrait was there, still staring and taunting him, and a cluster of other ripped pieces of parchment, too. Wylan recognized them immediately. It was the sketches of the crew, ripped apart and distributed, then brought back together. With him.

**Author's Note:**

> i did a little research on dyslexia and how minds like wylan's worked. it might be inaccurate and i don't want to fall prey to too many stereotypes so if this is horrible please feel free to call me out on it askfhsdfkhfksjdhf


End file.
